Page 17

SIXTEEN

ELIO

The footsteps were quick and determined, crossing the space on the other side of the door, the knob twisting, the door swinging open. My breath caught for a moment.

“What do you want?” the guy asked. No hellos or welcomes. He was almost as tall as me, with floppy dark hair covering the top of his head and a low-taper fade on the sides. Tattoos adorned his face, and a thin mustache decorated his upper lip, fitting perfectly over the pronounced Cupid’s bow. He was strikingly handsome, except for the scowl on his face that made chills run down my spine.

The boyfriend , I figured. Patrick had mentioned him before, but he didn’t do him justice. This guy was suspicious and unwelcoming through and through, but I guessed he knew who I was, so I couldn’t blame him too much. “I’m looking for Easton.”

“I bet,” the guy said, not budging from the door.

“You’re his…boyfriend,” I said.

The guy’s chin ticked up. “Yeah. And you’re the fuckface friend, right?”

I stared at the guy for a heartbeat or two, then nodded. “That’s exactly right.”

“Easton,” he called. “It’s for you.” He stalked back from the door, leaving it open but not extending an invitation.

I stepped inside anyway. The place was kind of cozy. I walked into the spacious living room cluttered with a couch, armchairs, potted plants, a coffee table, a piano, a TV shelf with a gaming console, and some scattered books and clothes all around. A dining area and the kitchen were to my left, and a narrow hallway led to three more doors straight ahead. Easton stepped out of one of those rooms, wearing gray sweatpants and a white, sleeveless T-shirt that bared his sculpted arms despite the chill air pouring through the window that was slightly ajar.

“Hey,” I said as Easton joined his boyfriend at the far end of the living room. “Can we talk?”

Easton scanned me head to toe with a quick glance. “Sure.” He didn’t budge.

My gaze flicked to his boyfriend and back to Easton. “Er, alone?”

The boyfriend snorted. “Never gonna happen, buddy.”

Easton put a hand on his boyfriend’s forearm. “Actually, Jace, would you mind giving us a moment?”

Jace looked into Easton’s eyes for a long moment, saw something reassuring, and nodded. He picked up his jacket by the front door and shot me a warning look. “I think I’ll have a smoke downstairs.”

The door clicked softly behind Jace, but it might as well have been a cannon blast. The silence that followed was sharp and brittle, stretched taut between us. Easton leaned back against the wall, arms crossing loosely over his chest. He didn’t speak. Didn’t offer me a drink or a seat. Just stared.

I shifted my weight, swallowing hard. “He’s very protective of you.”

Easton arched a brow, unimpressed. “Someone’s gotta be.”

That one landed right where it was meant to. I nodded once, accepting the sting. “Yeah. I deserve that.”

His eyes flicked toward the window and then back to me, unreadable. “What are you doing here, Elio?”

I took a deep breath. Held it. Let it out slowly. “I came to apologize.”

Easton’s laugh was short and humorless. “Bit late for that, don’t you think?”

“I know.” My voice cracked around the edges. “It’s too late for a lot of things. But I needed to say it anyway.”

He said nothing. Just waited.

I took another step forward, then stopped myself. “That day…the day Kyle outed you…I couldn’t even look at you. I left you there, and I didn’t stop to think about how much that must’ve hurt. I’ve been thinking about that day ever since, and I still don’t understand how I could be such a coward.”

The flicker in Easton’s eyes was subtle, but I caught it. He wasn’t made of stone. Not anymore.

“I was scared,” I said, voice barely a whisper. “Not of you. Of me.”

He looked up, his expression finally shifting. “You’re saying you’re…?”

I nodded. “I’m gay.”

Silence fell again, but this one was heavier. More real.

“I didn’t know it then,” I continued. “Not really. But I think part of me…maybe part of me always did. I was bullied in middle school. Called gay so many times I started to believe I must be, even before I had a clue what I wanted. And I fought it. I buried it. I wrapped myself in whatever people expected of me so tight that I couldn’t breathe unless I was performing. So when Kyle did that to you, it wasn’t just your life blowing up. It was like someone ripped the curtain back and pointed a spotlight at mine, too. And I—I panicked. I was a coward.”

“Bullies are always the first to see it,” Easton said and fell quiet. Still. His arms had loosened at some point, dropping to his sides.

“I didn’t stand by you because I was afraid if I did, people would think I was just like you,” I said, each word burning on the way out. “Turns out they would’ve been right.”

Something broke in my voice, and I didn’t fight it.

“It took falling for someone,” I went on, “and ruining everything to finally see myself for who I was. I hurt him, Easton. I hurt myself. And I hurt you worst of all.”

When he finally spoke, it was slow and low. “Self-hate does that. Turns you into a weapon against people who didn’t deserve it.”

My eyes stung. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at me for a long time, really looked, and I saw something uncoil in his face. A tension that had been there since the moment I walked in. Maybe even longer.

“I hated you for a while,” he said quietly. “You were my best friend. You were supposed to have my back. But when it happened, when everything exploded, you were the first one to disappear.”

“I know,” I said. “I don’t expect to undo that.”

He nodded slowly. “But I understand it now.”

I blinked. “You do?”

“I do,” he said. “Because I’ve been there, too. I know what it’s like to carry shame that doesn’t belong to you. To let it eat everything good inside you until you think that’s all you are. But Elio…” His voice softened. “You came back. You said the words. That counts for something.”

Relief cracked through me like thunder. I didn’t even know I was shaking until he stepped forward and pulled me into a tight, steady hug. My arms hesitated, then clung to him like a lifeline.

We stood like that for a while. Long enough for something old and rotten to heal just a little.

When we pulled back, Easton gave me a small smile. “So,” he said, brushing his thumb across his nose, “you fell for someone?”

My heart twisted. “Yeah.”

“Let me guess,” Easton said. “Big shoulders. Bad temper. The type who’d rather tackle his feelings than talk about them?”

I huffed out a laugh. “You could say that.”

Easton smirked. “Then why the hell are you standing here instead of going to him?”

I froze. “Because I don’t think he wants me anymore.”

“Not with that attitude,” Easton said. “Elio, if you’re half as serious about him as you are about this apology, then you’ve got a shot. But you have to fight for it.”

I stared at him, a mix of hope and disbelief bubbling up like static in my chest. “You’d help me?”

Easton grinned. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”

It was the easiest answer in the world.

“Yeah,” I whispered. “We are.”

Easton lit up as if he had a plan.